


Play

by Chromi (orphan_account)



Series: Thirsty Prompt Fills [4]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, M/M, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25863754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Chromi
Summary: Marco was an observant guy. Stupidly so, if he was perfectly honest. Nothing got past him, not even instances like when Haruta stuck his tongue out behind his back or when Thatch muttered a hissed insult about his hair. They had both been smacked and scolded while glaring at Ace as he hooted with laughter at their misfortune.Soof courseMarco noticed this as well.Of coursehe saw the way Ace twitched when Deuce yanked his shirt closed over his chest, berating him forgoing half-nakedandbeing an embarrassment to the crewfor thinking that strutting shirtless before the owner of a chain of five star hotels - a dear friend of Whitebeard’s who a select few were due to have dinner with that evening on land - was in any way appropriate.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace
Series: Thirsty Prompt Fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761259
Comments: 5
Kudos: 138





	Play

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to the [One Word Prompts - Whitebeard Crew](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19321228) on August 24th 2019. Moving to it's own entry to bring the collection's rating down to T!

Marco was an observant guy. Stupidly so, if he was perfectly honest. Nothing got past him, not even instances like when Haruta stuck his tongue out behind his back or when Thatch muttered a hissed insult about his hair. They had both been smacked and scolded while glaring at Ace as he hooted with laughter at their misfortune.

So _of course_ Marco noticed this as well. _Of course_ he saw the way Ace twitched when Deuce yanked his shirt closed over his chest, berating him for _going half-naked_ and _being an embarrassment to the crew_ for thinking that strutting shirtless before the owner of a chain of five star hotels - a dear friend of Whitebeard’s who a select few were due to have dinner with that evening on land - was in any way appropriate.

Ace directed his glare at Marco rather than Deuce as the doctor continued to drone at him about proper attire, buttoning up his shirt for him because Ace was a stubborn ass and refused to do it himself.

And he saw Marco’s eyes narrow slightly when the fabric brushed against him again and he flinched.

Ah, _shit_ , this wasn’t going to end well. Ace barely even heard Deuce snap at him to keep still, his attention solely focused on that evil, knowing smirk that grew on Marco’s lips.

His damn thick lips that had to feel positively sinful when pressed to skin or pulled tight around the shaft of a cock. Ace couldn’t suppress the full body shudder that ran through him that was _not_ helped by the way his shirt shifted over his chest. After months of fucking his own fist while moaning Marco’s name into his pillow, it was damn difficult to not let his thoughts stray south whenever he saw his fellow commander. It _certainly_ didn’t help that Marco seemed interested too, making what Ace could only surmise as bad attempts at flirting with him every so often, and doing things like looking at him like _that_.

Deuce flicked him on the forehead to bring his attention back to him, and Ace pouted at his former first mate.

“Behave yourself tonight,” Deuce said, his tone promising punishment if he heard that Ace did not stay on his best behavior, “no stripping, no getting drunk, and no falling asleep in your food.”

Ace frowned, affronted - he didn’t _choose_ to fall asleep into his dinner. Deuce knew that, knew the trigger of his goddamn narcolepsy was talking while eating. It wasn’t _Ace’s_ fault that they’d run out of medication yet again and he was left at the mercy of his own stupid brain now.

So he concentrated, or rather, did his best to concentrate that evening when they sat down to their dinner. The shirt was a huge distraction, the thin material rubbing and slipping over his firm chest with almost every movement of his arms, and Ace had to really, _really_ work to not react every damn time. And it wasn’t made any easier by having Marco sit opposite him, the blond practically leering at him all through the meal and very obviously not taking in a word that Pops and his successful business-owner friend exchanged.

Ace felt rather smug when he accidentally flinched and gasped at the feel of the material rubbing over him as he reached a hand behind his back to thumb at an itch there. Marco shifted opposite him, his eyes trained on Ace’s chest, and when Ace glanced down to see if maybe he’d dropped his soup down himself, he saw that Marco’s interest had been piqued by Ace’s nipples poking erect through the shirt.

And so Ace grinned - no, _smirked_ \- at Marco. _You like that, huh?_

And he could tell by the heavy darkness in Marco’s eyes that yes, yes he did.

Ace had a ready-made excuse to leave the dinner party early in Thatch, the chef drinking more than he normally would have in polite company as he was unable to refuse the strikingly pretty young lady who served them wine throughout the night. And Ace also knew Thatch was a bad drunk with wine.

“I love you, Ace,” Thatch slurred into his neck, his entire body weight slumping against his shorter friend as he was practically carried onto the Moby Dick, “you take such good care of ol’ Thatchie, my lovely boy.”

Ace leaned his face away as Thatch tried to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek, laughing at how wrecked the chef was.

Thatch was dumped unceremoniously on his bed once they made it to his room, whimpering and patting around for more alcohol as Ace tugged the blanket over him. He mumbled something incoherent about being a better chef than whoever had made their dinner at the hotel, and fell blessedly silent as sleep pulled him under.

Ace shook with suppressed laughter as the first of the snores began, and _fuck_ that was a bad move. The shirt pulled at him, slipping deliciously light and teasing over his nipples and sending jolts of pleasure straight to his cock again. Ace bit back a moan for perhaps the thousandth time that night and hastily backed out of Thatch’s room, not wanting to be caught standing there with a raging hard-on; that would be great fun to explain away if Thatch woke up again.

A hand thumped to the door of Thatch’s room as Ace clicked it closed, and Ace unwittingly stepped back into a broad, strong chest. He hadn’t been aware anyone was there, but it didn’t take a genius to guess who stood behind him. His breath hitched as that hand’s twin circled around his chest and began to unbutton his shirt, pulling more gasps and shudders at the feel of the material tickling at his skin.

“So _this_ is why you don’t button up your shirts,” Marco’s voice hissed into his left ear, and Ace _trembled._ “I always assumed it was because your devil fruit made you too hot. You _are_ a dirty boy, aren’t you, Ace?”

Ace arched his back into that hand pulling his shirt open and swallowed a whine. Marco pressed in a little closer, nuzzling his nose in to the sensitive skin just behind Ace’s left ear; the scratch of his beard to Ace’s neck left the young man breathless, his nerves tingling and senses already intensely heightened by the hours of teasing the shirt had subjected him to. _Fuck_ he was so hard, too, pressing almost painfully in the pants he had been instructed to wear by Deuce instead of his usual shorts.

“Me? Dirty?” Ace’s small laugh left him in a shaky breath, “I think you’ll find _I’m_ not the one undressing my crewmate in the middle of a corridor.”

Marco hummed and pressed his lips to Ace’s neck softly, teasing, and Ace felt the smirk to his skin in response to his shudder.

God _fuckit_ what he wouldn’t give to feel those lips suck and bite at his nipples - they were so hard, so sensitive, his pectoral muscles under his skin actually trembling in desperate _need_ for attention to the area.

Ace gasped, the sound rolling into a moan as Marco pulled back slightly and slipped the shirt from Ace’s shoulders, letting it pool around his feet on the floor. His hands returned with a vengeance, sliding firm over Ace’s abdomen before coming to a stop just below his nipples, and Ace _whined_ , not caring for a second how gone he sounded in that moment. He could feel himself leaking in his underwear at the touch, at that teasing, and he thrust his hips slightly into the open air.

“Yes, you.” Marco’s voice was low and gravelly, sending shock-waves of aching desire through Ace. “You’re goddamn filthy, Ace.” Ace groaned and dropped his head backwards to rest on Marco’s shoulder, tilting it to the right slightly when Marco ran his tongue up the column of Ace’s neck slowly, so fucking _slowly_. Ace’s chest swelled with his deep inhale, trying so hard to entice Marco’s fingers into pinching his hardened nubs, but he wasn’t giving it to him, not yet, in any case, thumbs pressing and circling against his ribs instead.

The shitty bastard.

“Marco,” Ace hissed, not caring how he sounded, his mind blissfully blank to any thoughts other than _touchmetouchmetouchme_ , “if you’ve figured it out then _do something already_ , please, _please_.” He didn’t have the patience to play, to dance around the subject before getting to the main event, to even tease Marco further about feeling up random members of the crew out in the open. He didn’t care if he sounded desperate because he _was_ desperate, and if Marco didn’t touch him properly soon then he’d be forced to just go for it and take care of himself, Marco watching or not.

And Marco grinned; Ace cant his hips backwards into the feel of Marco’s own erection pressing hot into the cleft of his ass, and he couldn’t help but feel a little proud to be the cause of Marco’s arousal.

“Tell me,” Marco rasped against his ear, one hand sliding back down Ace’s abdomen to cup at his wet erection through his pants, “have you ever been able to come from just having your chest played with? Or is this something you’d like me to test right now?”

Ace’s head was swimming with lust - Marco’s hand cupping him gripped him a little harder, the cock against his ass ground into him with every small rock of Marco’s hips, and holy _shit_ if this wasn’t the hottest thing Ace had done since joining the crew. Maybe he should have just jumped Marco months ago when he had first noticed him staring with more than brotherly love in his eyes.

“I’ve never—” Ace gasped as Marco’s teeth brushed against his throat lightly, testing him, before nipping at the skin. Ace writhed against him, hips twitching forward again, and he barely managed to say, “I’ve tried, but I couldn’t— got so close, though—”

And Marco moved, his hands finally, _finally_ cupping his firm chest, fingers curling to gently pinch at and tug Ace’s stupidly sensitive nipples. It was like a dam bursting within him, the touch ripping through him like electricity and Ace had to bite his own fingers to stop himself crying out.

“That’s right,” Marco huffed into the curve of his neck to shoulder, his pelvis grinding into the swell of his ass more insistently as Ace moaned around his own fingers, “keep it down, or you’ll wake Thatch.”

“Then can’t we just— just move to my room? It’s right there—”

“No.” Ace felt the wicked smile to his skin, and those fingers twisted his nipples almost cruelly; Ace felt like he was going to cry with the intensity of it. “You’re going to come right here, right outside Thatch’s room, while trying to hold back your voice. And then…” Ace jerked into Marco’s hands at his chest, cock leaking like a faucet under the older man’s ministrations, “ _then_ I’m going to take you to your room and fuck you into your mattress. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Ace. I’ve been waiting for you to make your move for months, but you’re just so _stubborn_.”

His awareness was leaving him, his skin hypersensitive and body thrumming with lust. He couldn’t stop his pants, his gasps and wanton moans as Marco built him up to the brink, rubbing and pinching and flicking at his rosy buds. He didn’t want this to end, this perfect moment of delicious ache and excitement, but the promise of having Marco’s cock buried to the hilt inside him was alluring in it’s own right.

“Same goes for you,” Ace panted, slipping a hand down behind his back and cupping Marco’s cock, feeling the heat and the weight of it in his palm, and _god_ Marco was not small, not by any stretch of the imagination, and Ace’s mouth watered at the thought of having it open him up and fill him. “You’re not exactly _ahh_ — a master of mystery yourself. I’ve seen the way you stare at my— my ass when I bend over. And those pick-up lines y-you came out with at the bar on that last island were _dreadful_ ; did you a-actually think those would get me into—”

He cut himself off with a whine that was hastily swallowed by Marco turning his face towards his own and pressing their lips together. Ace opened his mouth to Marco’s tongue, sliding wet and insistent against his own, and his arousal spiked deep in his stomach.

He was about to come just from Marco’s fingers at his nipples, each twist and pull and rub sending sparks cascading along his nerves and curling the heat inside him tighter. His head felt light as he closed his eyes to the feel of Marco kissing him senseless, and then it went perfectly blank and white.

His balls tightened and his cock throbbed hot against the fabric of his pants as Ace spasmed, his cry swallowed eagerly as he came. Marco worked him through it and Ace felt like he was going insane from the pull at his chest, his skin alive with _fire_ and— shit, he actually _was_ on fire, and Marco’s flickered into life to greet it, to meld with it, and Ace was drowning in bliss and heat and desire.

He panted against Marco’s lips as he came down from his high, body trembling from the intensity of it and already aching for more. Marco gave his chest one final squeeze with his palms before he spun Ace on the spot and pushed him up against the closed door of Thatch’s room, grinding his own arousal into Ace’s spent cock.

“You are _delicious_ ,” Marco groaned, sliding his palms along Ace’s waist and earning a shudder from the younger man, “I’ve never been able to make someone come just from nipple play. _Fuck_ , Ace,” and Marco sucked his lower lip between his own, making Ace writhe, “you’re too much.”

Ace had just enough awareness about him to feel a flutter of pride at how wrecked Marco sounded, pressing his tongue into that wet mouth once again.

His fingers dragged teasing down Marco’s painfully hard cock, palming at it when his hips stuttered forwards. “You still want to take this back to my room?” he grinned, dark gray meeting lust-heavy blue as Marco opened his eyes from the kiss.

“God, _yes_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to fill [my Tumblr](https://chromiwrites.tumblr.com/) inbox with prompts, nonsense, or anything at all! I love to chat TT
> 
> Comments and kudos let me know if I'm doing something right, and I always love your feedback!


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